Rasul

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I pushed through that wall.  The one good thing about all of this is that I have learned to be patient, be stronger, and wait it out.  Redirection.  When things get tough, I try so very hard to redirect my thoughts to thinking that is actually productive.  I try to think about what I have in my life that DOES work.  What can I do to alleviate the negative thoughts? Those thoughts aren’t T’s fault or my kids’.  I own those thoughts.  It is no one else’s job but mine to get things turned around.  I’ve learned a lot.  I’ve read a lot. It seems to have paid off.   Much of it seems to be working.  YIPPEE!  So screw you, Negativity and Depression.  I will not only win this battle, but I will win the war, too.

I have spent too much time these past few years fighting for things that were not worth my efforts.  This time is different.  This time, I’m fighting for me.  I’m fighting for my life, and I know I will win, because I have finally learned to care about ME.  I don’t mean that in a selfish way.  What I mean is that at one time I put so much effort into something that did nothing to benefit me.  I cared for what did not care for me in return.  I was hurt.  My family was hurt.  Everyone around me suffered due to my misguided efforts.  This time is different, because if I fight to get back to ME, then it also benefits the people who love and care for me.  Win.  Win.

Yes, I was in a crappy state of mind for most of the day.  I didn’t accomplish much at all, but I plugged away to the best of my limited abilities.  I suppose that’s the most we can ask of ourselves.  We do the best we can.  If we don’t backtrack, give in, give up, or falter, then we have won a victory for the day.  That is something, my friends.  Self-respect and integrity at the end of the day is something to be proud of.

Tonight as I was driving home from work, I put my hair up in a ponytail, opened the sunroof and all of the windows.  The warm breeze whipped around me.  I stuck my arm out of my window and let my hand cup the warm air.  My iPod was blasting, and a song from my waaaay distant past came on:  Rasul by Spyro Gyra.  It’s an old, old song.  T and I were so young back when we loved Spyro Gyra.  No one we knew had even heard of them.  Rasul was a song that moved me.  Soprano sax is the main instrument.  That was back before Kenny G compromised the poor soprano sax with his greasy, long-haired elevator music.

When I heard Rasul again today, I had such sweet memories.  I remembered the old apartment where we sat on the floor listening to LP’s.  We had no money, but we had an excellent sound system with GIANT speakers.  Sometime in the early 80’s, Spyro Gyra came to a local college for a concert.  We scraped together enough money for the tickets, and I still remember what a fascinating show they put on.  Their percussion section was amazing, the horns, too.  We were transfixed during the entire show.

I listened to Rasul twice today as I drove home, then I called T.  He remembered.  I could hear the smile in his voice when I called him and told him what I had been listening to.  As soon as I got home, I brought my iPod into the living room, and played it on our sound system.  T and I laughed.  We remembered the giant speakers, and laughed as we looked at our surround sound system.  Oh, how things have changed!  Now, there are six tiny speakers strategically placed around the room, and the sound could blow our old big boy speakers out of the water.

As we listened, Emily came running down the stairs.  She said, “Mom!” when she saw me standing in there.  She looked confused.  She had thought I was playing.  I hugged her for the mistake.  I haven’t played my soprano sax, or any other sax for that matter, very much in over  a year.  Someday soon, though, I’m going to get it out.  Someday very soon.

 

 

Damn That Wall

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It seems that I can only go along so well before I hit that wall again.  CRASH!

Think positive.  Think positive.  Yeah…..screw it!  I get so tired of looking at the bright side, reminding myself of the good.  I am tired of working so hard, trying so hard just to NOT HURT.  Life should not be this difficult.  Life is not fair.  Nope.

I could feel the wall begin creeping up on me a last night.  I was tired.  Once I got home from work, everyone seemed to need a little piece of me.  Lola had a couple of neighbor friends in the house.  “Look, Mom.  Look, Mom.  Look, Mom.”  I listened patiently.  I looked.  I looked again….and again.

I escaped upstairs to change clothes, and Em came in to talk.  It was more of the endless stream-of-consciousness about how much she misses her boyfriend who is away at school, and she hasn’t seen since last Saturday.  My God, the drama!  Oh, yeah, could I take her shopping this weekend?  She has nothing to wear.

I grabbed my laptop, and snuck down to the living room.  I needed a few moments of mindless activity, but that was not to be.  T came in.  “What are you doing?  You’re going to sit there and fall asleep.  What are you thinking about dinner?”  Bleh…  Really, I didn’t give a shit about dinner, but I got up and headed into the kitchen.  To be fair, he always helps with dinner preparations, but on his terms.  Delaying dinner to catch a few moments of relaxation is not on his terms.

While dinner was cooking, I once again headed to the couch thinking that I could sit quietly for a moment.  I had just gotten comfortable again on the couch, when Lola came in from playing with her friends.  “Mom, can I spend the night with ***** on Friday night?”  I explained to her that I didn’t even know this person or her parents.  No, I couldn’t allow her to spend the night at their home.  Maybe they could just get together and play for a while instead.   For probably the 100th time, I explained to her that in order for her to spend the night at someone’s house, the invitation had to come from the parent, not the child.  Oh, she had a note!  I braced myself.  I knew what would come next.  Lola grabbed her bookbag and rummaged around until she found it.  Yep, just as I had suspected.  It was a note written in red crayon.  The penmanship was lovely, but I don’t think it was written by this girl’s mother.  🙂  In any event, I would be reluctant to send my child to a home where the mother uses a red crayon to write notes.  (Not that I couldn’t see myself doing the same thing!)  I informed her that I as sorry, but the answer was still NO.  Hmmmmph, arms crossed, she huffed away.

Lola was angry with me.  Em was sequestered in her room on an endless phone call to her beloved.  T was on the computer.

I sat there and wondered, “Now what?”  I had been home for a couple of hours, and the entire time I had felt like a rag doll being yanked around from one place to another.   Picture a group of dogs all latched on and shaking their heads from side to side trying to get a better grip.  Eventually, the dogs all tire of the game, drop the doll, and forget all about the game.  That’s what I felt like last night.  Well, not just last night.  I feel that way much of the time.

The girls went to bed.  T moved from the computer to the green chair in the living room.  I wandered around the house.  I puttered.  I did laundry, folded laundry, put away laundry.  It was quiet, too quiet.  The wall was approaching closer and closer.

I tried to talk to T, but could not seem to get beyond one-word responses.  Facebook.  I looked at what everyone was doing.  I played Sims online.  Even my little Sim chick is boring.

Eventually T fell asleep in his chair, and I wandered upstairs alone to read a book.  Instead of reading, I laid their on my bed looking out the window.  I couldn’t see much, just the shadows of the trees on the lawn.  A cool breeze was coming in through the screen.  I laid there and I thought of what was behind me.  I tried to imagine what lies ahead, but all I could see was more of the same.  Pacing in a cage is what it often feels like, but I know that’s my own perception and my own fault for feeling this way.

I recognize what is happening.  I am losing a bit of the positive progress I had been making.  A setback, that’s all.  I will recover from it…stronger than ever.  I recognize it, I acknowledge it, but still….it pisses me off.  Why is this all so difficult?

The wall was back full force this morning.  I did not sleep well.  My dreams were not kind.  My dreams were haunting and exhausting.   For silly reasons, I cried during my drive to work.  I looked across the fields and most of them are now bare, bleak, and empty.  The harvest is in.  Another season has passed.  Another year.  Another winter is waiting.